Chapter 4 - A Whisper From Heaven

Jia left the bathroom, perplexed by her emotions. She sat in the waiting area, trying to piece together the whirlwind of thoughts clouding her mind.

Inside the interrogation room, Emma and Alex were deep in discussion, attempting to connect the dots.

Emma: "An accident and a murder. We can forget about the accident for now and focus on what we have, a woman, tortured and brutalized. Doesn't it seem strange that no neighbor heard anything? No one reported it?"

Alex leaned against the table, arms crossed.

Alex: "The couple were once rich, lost everything to debt about sixteen years ago. That means they've been in that apartment ever since. A place like that… things happen, but something is off. It's like—"

A phone call interrupted.

Emma: "Sorry, I need to take this. It's from the morgue."

Alex: "Go ahead."

As Emma stepped out to answer the call, Alex flipped through the documents in front of him. The reports detailed various crimes within that sinful apartment complex, a heaven for drug dealers and criminals. But one report stood out.

A case.

A missing child.

"2021, January 4th. A young boy reported missing at the Aragoub apartment complex. Upon arrival, investigators found the mother in distress, claiming her son had vanished from inside the apartment. There were no signs of forced entry. No witnesses. No traces. It was as if the child had been erased from existence."

Alex frowned. The report ended there. No updates. No follow-ups.

The door burst open.

Emma: "Alex, we have a clue. Follow me to the morgue."

He shoved the document into his coat pocket and hurried after her.

---

The Morgue

They arrived like a thunderstorm, the air tense with anticipation. An officer led them to where the victims' bodies lay under white sheets.

Officer: "Investigators. You might want to see this."

He pulled out a bloodstained piece of paper, sealed in plastic.

Officer: "We found this on the woman. I have no idea if it's connected to your case, but…"

Emma took the paper, her hands steady but her pulse unsteady. She read aloud:

"In the midst of hope lies despair. Life is a cruel jest, an unending cycle of joy and agony, where we rise only to fall again. The only true escape is to step beyond the cycle, to surrender, to fade into the silence. Death is not an end, but a whisper in eternity, a slumber for weary souls. I prayed for salvation. And he answered me with a smile."

"The light behind him was blinding, like an angel come to lift me away.

"Today, I'll descend to heaven."

Silence.

An eerie sensation filled the room. It was as if someone, something, was watching with a smile, laughing at this whole situation.

Emma turned the page over.

A symbol.

Its meaning was unknown, but something about it was inherently wrong.

Alex: "What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

Emma: "Was she religious? Did she know she was going to die? And most importantly..."

She swallowed.

Emma: "Who is 'he'?"

No one spoke. Yet, for the first time, they all felt it. that creeping, unseen presence. Something was very, very wrong with this case.

Officer: "That symbol… it's not the first time I've seen it."

Emma and Alex exchanged glances.

Officer: "Months ago, some homeless guy came into the station, rambling. He kept saying he'd seen 'the mark of the hollowed.' We thought he was just another junkie. Maybe…"

Emma stared at the strange emblem. It almost looked like an eye. Watching. Waiting.

Emma: "We need to find that man."

---

Meanwhile, at the Station –

An officer approached Jia and Cain, placing snacks in front of them.

Officer: "Jia, we called your parents. They're on their way. You're safe now."

Jia exhaled in relief. Finally.

The officer turned to Cain, crouching down to his eye level.

Officer: "Hey, little man. Why aren't you eating? Don't you like it?"

Cain sat curled into himself, arms wrapped around his legs, staring at the floor.

The officer softened, placing a gentle hand on his back.

Officer: "I get it. It's hard."

She glanced at Jia—at her relieved expression, at the warmth of knowing she had a family waiting.

Cain had no one.

She sighed.

Officer: "I know what you're thinking."

Cain finally looked up at her.

She smiled, but there was something knowing. something old. in her eyes.

Officer: "It's easy to let jealousy poison you. To let it fester, grow, turn into something dark. It tells you that you deserve more. That life is unfair. And the more you feed it, the hungrier it becomes. Until one day... it eats you alive."

Cain stared at her. For the first time, something flickered in Cain's expression. He was affected by her words.

He smiled and nodded hesitantly.

The officer grinned, ruffling his hair.

Officer: "That's better. Here—"

She pulled out a chocolate bar from her pocket, handing it to him.

Officer: "I bought this for my little brother, but I think you deserve it more."

A call came from across the station.

"Kath! We need you!"

Kath: "Coming!"

She turned back to Cain, giving his cheek a playful pinch.

Kath: "Welp, i gotta bounce. Look for me if you need anything, okay?"

She left.

A moment later, a loud voice could be heard from afar.

JIA-

Jia's mother rushed in, her father close behind.

Jia shot to her feet.

Jia: "Mom! Dad!"

Her parents pulled her into a crushing embrace, their voices thick with emotion.

Mother: "My baby! I was so worried!"

Father: "You're safe now. Daddy's got you."

They held her close, whispering reassurances.

Across the room, Cain watched.

His fingers gripped the chocolate bar.

Something in his expression softened. But just beneath that softness, something else stirred.

Something deep.

Something unknowable.

Jia, still holding onto her parents, glanced back one last time.

Cain was staring.

Not with anger. Not with sadness.

Just… staring.

Her stomach twisted. Something about his gaze—something unreadable—unnerved her.

She turned away.

Then—

A whisper.

Soft. Barely there. Only for her ears.

Cain: "You're lucky, Jia."

Her breath caught.

She turned back.

Cain hadn't moved. His lips hadn't parted.

Jia swallowed hard and followed her parents out the door.

The station grew quiet, and Cain sat alone.

The distant echoes of voices and footsteps faded as Jia and her family left.

Slowly, he unwrapped the chocolate bar, staring at it for a moment before taking a small bite. The sweetness melted on his tongue, unfamiliar yet pleasant.

His fingers absentmindedly traced the table's surface. There, faint but visible, were scratches—marks left behind by years of restless hands. People who sat here before him. People who were questioned. People who left.

Some never did.

Then, a quiet smile.

Not one of joy.

Not one of sorrow.

Something else entirely.

He took another bite of the chocolate.